


Once a believer

by ethereal_larry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Harry is betrayed, Larry Stylinson Is Real, Late Night Conversations, Louis messed up, M/M, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 17:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4400888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethereal_larry/pseuds/ethereal_larry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the loudest boom of the pregnancy rumour disappeared, I'm here with my own one shot. This is NOT my opinion, I don't think that the pregnancy is real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once a believer

Louis woke up to the sound of muffled sobs and a disgustingly loud breaking of one heart in the middle of the night. Strings of moonlight were lighting the room in silver, shadows crept up the wall opposite of the window, but those weren't the worst. Shadows in Louis' soul were much darker and never rested. They hunt him in the brightest sun and followed him with his every step. He was desperate, there wasn't an escape. He knew that, some things were deadly serious. He was the worst of them all. He was a cheater.

He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the feeling in his guts. It was guilt and pain and he was already so tired of living the way they did. Their house was empty, their house felt empty. Even though there still were the two of them just as usually. Just as if  _nothing_ happened. But it was a complete, stirring lie. There would never be the back door, he would never be able to take back the things he happened to do. He was a hopeless idiot. He was a cheater.

The crying seemed to get louder with every heartbeat and every blink of Louis' restless eyes. Soon it was echoing their lonely house, almost breaking glass, deafening every hope he never had.

He stood up, the floor under his feet unpleasantly croaked and the sniffling abruptly stopped. He was suspicious but at the same time didn't want to face the same picture just as every night before. He was such a coward. He was. Tears in his eyes were almost real as he opened his door and took fifteen exactly measured steps to his left. It lasted only centuries and he was standing behind a closed door of his, could he even call him that anymore, boyfriend's provisional door. Because he didn't know what they were and what they even felt, every line was so blurry he didn't see it ending. They were like strangers, sharing a house of hurt and betrayal mixed with forgotten love and forced promises.

They weren't themselves anymore. Because changing was provided. And it always tore limbs and scarred faces. It had always been there, they just didn't see it coming. Until that night Harry slipped. And then... Louis swore he would never do such cursed thing, but he did worse, he walked in hell and hugged it like paradise. And he loved and threaded every second of it at the same time. He was thrilled, almost threw up.

He knocked, the tugging inside of his stomach only grew more unbearable. Something about this was pleasantly definite, yet he was so scared.

"C-come in," Harry's voice echoed from behind the door and maybe Louis wanted to run, maybe he took a step back. Maybe he wanted to forget and never return. However, the only certain thing was to face his fears and fix the only thing he could do anymore. He wanted to make it right. Do something. He needed to be worthy, to be  _it_ worthy.

"Louis?"

Only a beam of light from the hall crept through the slightly opened entrance. He was sitting in his bed, arms wrapped around his legs. He was tucked under a duvet, only head peaking out. It was almost adorable and Louis almost laughed. But then he flicked the light on and Harry's red eyes glazed over the surface, digging and nailing Louis' senses. It hurt. Physically and mentally. It was impossible to describe.

"I'm sorry," Louis whispered. A sentence that felt bitter, sweet, right, meaningless and tasteless on his tongue all at once. It never meant anything.

Words. They used them all the time to express feelings in their songs. Words. What are they anyway? Weapons in mouths of experienced warriors.

Daggers without roses to polish, dulcify them.

Ships without compasses to guide them through thunderstorms of begging.

Words could be powerful. They could hurt worse than any blade. They could cut skin to pieces and still appear to be the sweetest things. They could switch meanings and play puppets with people. But they never healed. They never comforted. They were never enough to repair what has been thrown away. So saying sorry was like shaking hands that asked for something to eat.

"I know you are. It's my fault," Harry sadly looked down at his lap and Louis gasped for air. It was suddenly too cold in the room. Cool breeze swam across his spine and he shivered.

"It's never been-" he forced out in shame. Shame as endless as an universe. Because it was inside himself, the fault in their hearts.

"I kissed him. I was the first to hurt you. I kissed him. I wanted to. I'm sorry I pushed you there. But I'm a selfish, foolish one. I've always been," Harry let out single broken laugh before taking a shaking breath and continuing, "but I can't bring myself to get over it. I'm shameful, but I was once a believer, you know? I believed we could last forever..."

"I forgave you. I understood. I still do. It's only my fault. And I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I'm not assuming you'd ever forgive me."

"I can never forget. The look in your eyes when I told you. It wasn't only hurt, it was disappointment and that got me the most. That knocked the air out my lungs. And now I see it. Because you believed me and I wasn't strong enough to be the one you needed and I'm so sorry, Louis. Now I feel what you felt. I'm so sorry. Everything around us is shattering and I can't stop it. I can't do anything g than sit here every night and cry just because of how much of a mess I am."

"I know, I can hear you. It's breaking my heart."

"And we're drifting apart, I can't take it. I can't have you slipping away from me. But it hurts so much, it pains me even to think about you. I love you, I always will. I don't doubt it. But it hurts and now I understand why you were so distant, why your smile wasn't the same bright sparkle ever since. I understand. But it still doesn't ease the burning in my head and the circling in my mind because understanding and  _getting over_ are such completely different things it scares me even."

"I'm scared as well, love."

"Don't... Please, don't. I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Go to sleep."

"I can't when I know you're crying."

"Go to sleep, Louis."

Even though it was one of the hardest decisions he ever made, Louis went back to his room, his eyes familiarly stung when he laid down. The empty coolness inside his heart just strengthen itself and he couldn't fight it anymore.

Morning after morning, it was the same. Dreading stereotype of eating breakfast in uncomfortable silence filled with bloodshot glances and occasional sniffling, excusing to wipe silent tears. Everything about them was silent. It drove them crazy. They were best friends. Though all the things, all the letters written in their fate screemed  _strangers_.

All the people around them noticed. You couldn't misplace their ways of getting the furthest they could just to escape the bubble of nothingness that swallowed them weeks ago.

They both were paler than ever, skinnier than they've ever been. Time has stopped or moved too fast, nobody knew. Who was there to care, empty places never minded mortal displeasures. They wished they could forget, but she was always there. She was and she  _existed_  and every little glance Harry had to have to her slowly growing belly brought back all the broken emptiness that raced inside his veins. She was  _nice._ That might have hurt the most. Because she was  _friendly,_ she just wanted to be around. She knew about their relationship and as twisted as it sounded, she supported them. She was  _sorry._ But the little disaster, the little baby, damaged the picture every single time. Because she was allowed to be  _happy._ And Harry was jealous o her happiness when he was drowning every second in his sorrow.

The crying during nights seemed more frequent with every fiber of Louis doing the same. Two boys in love, two broken souls and nothing to help them.

One night Louis couldn't stand it anymore. He looked in the mirror next to his bed and he simply wasn't able to understand what he saw. That wasn't himself. There was only one option and the thought itself brought tears in his once so happily blue eyes.

It felt like ridiculous Deja Vu. He knocked at the door to Harry's room and stepped in. He found him in the same position as all those weeks ago.

"Did I wake you up, Louis?"

"No... I'm- I need to tell you something. I need to talk. I can't do this  _thing,"_ he motioned in the air desperately, "anymore. It's killing us both and I caused it. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Harry. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant it to be her, I- you don't even know how much I regret it."

"The saddest thing is that I know..."

"I just... I love you so much I can't bear looking at what I'd done to you, to us. To everything we had. I'm sorry I sound this laughable. I just can't look at myself without being disgusted. I just... I messed up so much, you believed me."

"You did, too. I'm... I swear I can make it better."

"No, Harry, you don't... You don't understand. It's not about you making it better."

"Is it for her?" he silently asked, praying to the god he never believed in for mercy.

"No, Hazz, I just. I can't look at what I broke and can't fix. It's killing me to see what I'd done. It's killing me to see you, to hear you crying. I wanted to give you love, not to break you into pieces and set them on fire just because I was lonely and drunk, just because it was me who was burning, burning with jealousy. I can't look at myself without seeing how much I dissapointed you, how much I lost hope. I love you, but I don't deserve you to love me," Louis said, too shaken up to even sound like something.

"So is it that? We're done? Just like this?"

"I'm sorry, I think it's better I move out by tomorrow."

"You haven't answered my question. Are we over? Don't you still love me?" Harry stood up and walked dangerously close to Louis. Their breaths mixed, chests almost touching.

"O-of course I do. I will always love you, it's just we're-"

"What Louis?" he kissed him tenderly, just a peck wetted by salt tears and bitter thoughts.

"I can't stay with you."

"Don't leave me like this, please." Harry kissed him more and more.

"Harry, please, let me..."

"I don't want to lose you, you can't leave me."

"Look what I've done to you. Look at yourself and tell me it's not my fault," Louis backed up and his shoulder hit the wall behind him, "tell me you're over this, tell me it's the  _you_ you were before I did it. Tell me it's still the same."

Harry was silent. Too stunned to move from his spot. Too embarrassed. Too broken to admit he was right.

"See? I'm breaking you, I'm destroying you. I'm a disaster. I want you to be happy, Harry. And you can't be by my side. I love you, but I need to let you go. I need you to be alright one day. And maybe then... You can love me back and I will deserve your love again."

"So this is a..."

"Goodbye Harry. I love you."

The door closed with a silent thud. It was too late and it was too right to do anything about it. Louis was gone. And Harry could freely breathe. Breathe poisoned air with loneliness reeking through the the walls and emptiness curling the carpet. Harry was alone and he never cried so hard before. 


End file.
